


Clothes.

by mama_angst



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Dry Humping, M/M, Smut, hatefucking, idk - Freeform, larvis, they get off in a closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 09:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mama_angst/pseuds/mama_angst
Summary: It’s all grasping hands, heaving chests and stumbling feet as Larry shoves Travis into the janitor’s closet, locking the door behind them.





	Clothes.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VioletNuisance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletNuisance/gifts).

It’s all grasping hands, heaving chests and stumbling feet as Larry shoves Travis into the janitor’s closet, locking the door behind them.  
“Don’t fucking push me.” Travis snarls, but Larry just turns, pushing him back up against the wall, probably a bit too harshly. Larry would worry if Travis didn’t moan like a slut the moment his back met the concrete, and he grins, lips going right back to the other boy’s. He kisses him hotly, one hand moving to grab and press against Travis’s throat. The blond let out a delicious, strangled noise, and Larry can only smirk, kissing him again.  
This was a regular thing for them. They’d get into a spat, throw a few punches, then retreat to a closet, locker room, or empty classroom to rub one out together. It was their variation of hate fucking, and it was hot.  
The bruising kiss relents for a moment as the taller boy loosens his hold on Trav’s neck. The boy gasps, sucking down air, but Larry knows that he loves it. He loves to be pushed around, manhandled, and choked. It was fucking beautiful to watch.  
“The fuck are you laughing at?” The blond snaps harshly, and Larry just shrugs, tightening his fingers again, watching as he floundered for a moment.  
“Just you. Acting like no one’s ever touched you before.” He chuckles, his free hand going down to palm the bulge in the other’s jeans. He grins as blue eyes roll back in his skull.  
“And you’re so fucking hard. God, what a fucking slut.” Larry can feel the cock under his hand twitch at that, and he grins. He loves the control.  
Watching as Travis’ face gets just a bit redder, Larry feels his own cock chubbing up in his jeans. Travis looks so pretty, his tongue peeking out of those flushed lips, aborted gasps pulling, but getting him nothing.  
They’re enemies, aren’t they? Larry should not be getting off on the way Travis squirms under his touch, or the way he said his name when he was pissed off, or way his hips cant forward into his touch. But he is. He really fucking is.  
He’s brought back by a hand gripping his wrist tightly, and Larry suddenly remembers that Travis can’t breathe. He lets him go, and the blond chokes down breaths of stale, musty air.  
“Johnson, What the fuck?! Are you trying to kill me?!” Travis wheezes, and Larry almost feels a little bad.  
“Shut the fuck of, Phelps, your cock is still hard as a rock.” He growls, and with that, he grinds his hips up against the other boy’s. Travis lets out a soft moan, and Larry smirks, kissing him again, violently. Their teeth knock together, but Larry doesn’t give a shit.  
He grinds against him hotly, hips rutting, the friction of their jeans delicious, and they can’t get enough.  
They’re panting against each other’s mouths, bodies moving against each other. Travis has one arm stung over Larry’s shoulders, his other hand at the boy’s hips, fingers in his belt loops, using his leverage to grind harder, seeking release. Larry’s got his hand on Travis’s throat again, squeezing and releasing, humping against him like he was a fucking rabbit.  
“D-Dont Stop… Dont fucking stop, Johnson.” Travis snaps at him, empty threats, as he moans softly, just hauling him closer. And Larry can’t bear to disappoint.  
He squeezes the other’s throat tighter, listening to him wheeze as he ruts harder, chasing that high.  
Travis groans, grabbing Larry’s hand, prying it away from his throat just enough to catch his breath before his body is tightening, hips jarring up suddenly, and he’s coming in his pants.   
“F-Fuck, Larry, yes!”  
And for whatever fucking reason, his mortal enemy coming apart under his hands, crying out his name was all he fucking needed before he was over the edge, creaming his shorts with a groan.  
His fingers tightened around Travis’ throat one more time before he releases him, stepping back and looking him over.  
“... People are gonna notice that.” Larry smirks, pointing to the wet spot on the front of Travis’s shorts, even though he’s not even caught his breath yet. The blond, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, just rubs at the red marks on his throat, flipping him off with his free hand.  
“Go fuck yourself, Johnson.” He whispers, voice hoarse, a little broken.  
Larry just grins.  
“See you tomorrow. Same time.” He winks before turning on his heel and leaving Travis alone in the janitor’s closet, with a lot of gay panic and some unresolved feelings.


End file.
